Flip flops and barefoot trampling
Today you’re not getting my feet for free. You have to earn them. I put my flip-flops in your face and order you to kiss them. Both of them. Slowly, with your tongue, like they’re the most valuable thing you’ll ever touch. Because they are. Only when you’ve proven you can behave and that you’re desperate enough do I give you permission to move up to my feet.
And when I finally let you… I crush you.
I step on your chest, I step on your head, I use you as a doormat while I walk all over you in my flip-flops. I hear them complain under my weight and I don’t care. Then I take them off and make you lick my feet over and over. My soles, my toes, the bottoms you just kissed… all of it. Your tongue doesn’t stop until I say so. And even then I step on your head again just because I can.
At the end I sit on top of you, comfortable, watching the sunset like you don’t even exist. Meanwhile I order you to keep kissing and licking my feet. You’re down there, trapped, serving, while I’m up here enjoying the view and having you completely at my mercy.
You like being used as my paperweight and my footrest at the same time?
Then pay and watch how I treat you.
Bratty, cruel, and delicious.
Enjoy… or better yet, suffer nicely.